A crease appeared in his lean cheek. “You’re a frustrating wench.” His scrutiny resumed. “The T-shirt and hoodie work. Do you have a waterproof jacket?”

“Waterproof?” She frowned at the blue sky.

“Weather on the Peninsula changes quickly. Stuff a jacket in your daypack.”

“My what?”

He nudged her inside. “I’ve seen you carrying a small pack. Get that.”

But she’d put her wallet and keys in her jeans so she wouldn’t have to carry anything. Aaand she could see from his face that arguing wasn’t the right response. “Right.”

She’d bought the lightweight backpack to carry her laptop when she walked to town. After emptying it, she stuffed her waterproof jacket inside.

Returning from his Jeep, Gabe gave her a plastic grocery bag with several items inside. “Add that in. From now on, you wear your daypack anytime you go hiking.”

She added the plastic bag to the backpack. “What’s in there?”

“Bunch of stuff. Bug juice—repellent. A bottle of water and a filter. Couple of granola bars. Sunscreen. Matches and greasy cotton balls. A multi-tool.” He thought for a second. “First aid kit. Space blanket, hand warmers, socks. Compass, flashlight, and whistle.”

She stared at him. “Do you have this stuff sitting around?”

“It’s extras I had lying around. I figured you wouldn’t have much, and you need these to stay safe.”

Stay safe. She dropped her gaze, and her eyes prickled with tears. He was such a protector.

“Come, Goldilocks. Let’s get going.” He took her hand and pulled her to her feet. When he looked down at her, his gaze softened for a second.

And her insides melted.

Later that day, Audrey lay on a riverbank beside Gabe. As the sun soaked into her shoulders, her calves ached and burned. Hiking up and down trails was far different from walking around in a bar.

And, boy, Gabe had walked her. And talked.

In fact, her brain felt overstuffed with information. Moose precautions. Scaring off black bears as opposed to protecting vulnerable body parts from brown bears that didn’t scare. And she’d seen a brown bear that would be called a grizzly if it’d lived inland. Talk about scary.

He pointed out the nasty cow parsnip plant that’d burn a person who blundered into it. And countered that with amazing views of the Kenai Mountains. The river was lovely, too—an impossible blue-green color.

She could now recognize alder. “Good for smoking salmon.” And spruce trees—and the spruce grouse. A ptarmigan had burst out, almost from under her feet, and she’d landed on her butt.

Then a woodpecker loudly hammering a tree above her had startled her into a squeak that made Gabe laugh.

She’d never realized woodpeckers were so big.